


Garden Salads and Guy Sex

by Daydreaming_Scribe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brokeback Mountain References, Embarrassed Sam Winchester, Humor, M/M, No Sex, Sex Education, This isn't crack but it's like, crack adjacent I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 09:36:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20307349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daydreaming_Scribe/pseuds/Daydreaming_Scribe
Summary: Dean ponders about his brother's date night routines, and gets more than he bargains for.





	Garden Salads and Guy Sex

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Max is only mentioned, and even though the fanon interpretations of characters can be limitless, this fic implies that both he and Sam are cis, though I'm really interested in writing some trans Sammax content down the road. Dean is also presumably not familiar with the rituals of gay cis sex, so take that as you will.

“One cheeseburger, and one house salad with oil and vinegar,” the waitress says, placing the respective orders in front of Dean and Sam. “Let me know if you two need anything else.” As she leaves, she grabs the empty coffee pot on the table. “Want me to top this off?”

“We’d appreciate it very much,” Dean says, giving her a cheeky smile. The lady smiles back and winks.

“Of course, agent.” She makes her way behind the counter and brings back the pot, now filled with steaming hot coffee, before disappearing through the door to the kitchen. If Dean stares as she walks away, well, then that’s no one’s concern.

“Dude, gross.” Except of course, Sam’s, who just always has to make it his business to minimize Dean’s fun. “You’re like, forty.” 

“So’s she,” he bites back, grabbing the ketchup bottle and upending it onto his plate. “I’m not breaking any laws by appreciating a beautiful woman, am I?”

“No, but when she’s at work, where she’s obligated to be nice to everyone, it’s kinda creepy,” Sam says as he unwraps the silverware from the napkin it came in. “Just... try to keep it til she’s off the clock, okay?”

“Relax, Sammy. It’s called being  _ friendly _ . Just because you’re banging Charmed doesn’t mean you have to stop being friendly.” It’s a low blow, but it shuts Sam up pretty quick. The diner is mostly empty, except for the last stragglers from lunch seated at the bar. Dean’s not stupid enough to bring up his brother’s new boyfriend where people could overhear them. Not like any assholes could stand a chance against the two of them, but a fight would draw cops, and cops are to be avoided at all costs. They wouldn’t be likely to give a pass to two supposedly long dead serial killers who also recently tried to kidnap the president, whether they were on the receiving end of some asshole’s homophobic outburst or not. 

It’s still taking him a while to adjust to the idea of Sam dating a guy. Not that anything could stop Dean from loving his brother at this point, or like he saw it as an issue. He’s just become so accustomed to decades of Sam liking girls that anything else was almost bizarre. Of course, Sam’s apparently spent decades hiding the fact that he liked more than just girls from Dean, so being open about it is probably bizarre for him, too. But they’re good, at least for right now, and Dean desperately wants Sam to not feel like it was a mistake telling him, so he’s trying his best to be completely normal about it. Whether he knows it or not, Max has been getting the typical Sam Winchester girlfriend (boyfriend,  _ boy _ friend) treatment: a nickname, inappropriate jokes mostly to annoy Sam, and a boyfriend thoroughly tired of his big brother being overbearing.

Thankfully, Sam’s very aware of what Dean’s doing, because he just scrunches up his nose in quiet annoyance. He’s going to see Max a little later tonight. Even if he hasn’t said so, Dean’s familiar with the routine. His caffeine-wired brother hasn’t had more than one cup all day, though normally by this time he’d have drunk at least five. Sam’s also spent the last few days working out more than usual, and not shaving. Because for some ungodly reason Max apparently thinks his baby brother looks sexy with scruff. Dean might have to intervene if Sam starts growing out a beard. Knowing his brother is somebody’s sexy lumberjack fantasy might trigger a stroke. Of course, the age difference might also mean Max is expressing his Daddy issues. If that’s the case, Dean will bypass stroke and go straight to full cerebral hemorrhage.

Later, Sam will spend close to an hour in the shower, doing what Dean’s not even sure he wants to know. He’ll come out smelling like that new cologne he only wears on these stupid dates, the one that’s a mix of pine and mint. His hair will have its own smell, from expensive shampoo and conditioner that reek of lavender and vanilla. He’ll tell Dean not to wait up, and come back the next afternoon with a big, dumb smile on his face.

It’s cute, don’t get him wrong. Sam's at the very top of Dean's very tiny list of favorite people, with no competition, so the fact that Max is making him so happy puts the witch pretty high on that list as well. It's just that all this pomp and circumstance seems excessive for a hook-up, especially when it's not the first or even the second time.

"Look I know it's none of my business," Dean starts. "But why do you go through all this trouble every time?" Sam frowns.

"What do you mean?" Dean rolls his eyes. He gestures at the salad and the water.

"Look, I get the showering, and the scruff, and the cologne and whatever. But not drinking coffee? What, are you afraid of staining your teeth?" Sam still looks confused, but Dean presses on. "And look, I know I joke around about how you eat nothing but salads, but that doesn't mean you have to prove me right." Almost immediately, recognition sets in on Sam's face. 

"T-that's.. uh..." Sam stammers. Almost immediately, color flashes across his face. "Well, that's just..."

"What, can your vegan boyfriend not stand the taste of meat on your breath?" Dean asks, a little too loudly, drawing the attention of the other diner patrons. Sam looks like he's regretting existing right now, but Dean's too morbidly curious to mercifully back down.

"Max isn't a vegan." Sam says lamely. "And no, that's not it."

"Then what?" Dean asks. The sound Sam makes is almost pained. "Come on, Sam, level with me." At this point, the younger brother's sunken as far as possible on his side of the table, vainly attempting to hide. After a measured sigh, he looks at Dean.

"You really want to know?" He asks. The tone of his voice makes it clear that he wants Dean to say no, but Dean isn't backing down.

"Lay it on me." Those big hazel eyes fill with regret.

"It's for...sex." Sam whispers the last word. Dean raises an eyebrow. As far as explanations go, it sounds pretty close to bullshit.

"What, you eat a salad to have good sex?" He snorts. "Does it make you more athletic?" 

"Well, I mean, on principle don't you just wanna feel better when having sex?" Sam challenges.

"No better trio in life than a beer, a burger, and a blowjob, Sammy." The younger brother concedes this point, looking around the room to make sure that no one's listening too closely.

"Okay sure, and if it were just blowjobs then maybe I would eat burgers. But like, there's other things, too. Which makes burgers less than ideal." Dean looks at him confusedly.

"I've never had issues eating burgers before sex, Sammy. Neither have my dates. Sounds like you're gonna have to explain just a bit more." Sam gives another groan, this one more out of frustration. Being the merciful older brother, Dean tries to ease his suffering. "Listen, there's no need to be embarrassed, man. We're both adults, and this is the oldest game in the world. One we've both played, will a lot of different people. So, no judgement here."

"Yeah, thanks for the pep-talk, Dean." Sam says, rubbing at his eyes. After a brief hesitation, he pushes forward. "Okay, so if we treat it like a game: you've said you've never had issues mixing burgers with sex, right?"

"Well. Not like, in the middle of things, but yeah."

"Thing is, when you 'play the game', there's two very different sets of equipment, and it's following very clear rules that everyone knows, right?"

"I...guess so?" Dean asks, completely lost but letting Sam ramble on.

"But people like me and Max, we have the same sets of equipment. So the normal rules don't qualify." Dean's starting to get what Sam's saying, but it's nothing new. He's not an idiot. The fact that sex for Sam and Max would be different than sex between Sam and a girl hasn't escaped him. He's just still not getting what that has to do with salads.

"Yeah, no shit. Doesn't explain the rabbit food." Dean says. Sam sits back in his chair, looking half-ready to throw the table at him.

“It’s so I have an easier time...cleaning up.” Jeez, does Sam have a food kink or something?

“Are you eating  _ during _ sex, dude?” Dean thinks it’s a fair question, but Sam just gets visibly more frustrated. He’s already pretty frustrated already. Dean feels partly like an idiot, which is frustrating as well, but he’s still pressing forward for an answer.

“No, it’s for the clean-up that happens … before. In the bathroom, before I meet up with Max.” He must still look lost, because Sam falls silent. Dean can see the cogs shifting in his brother’s brain, formulating a response that will maybe help this whole thing make sense to him.  "Dean, remember back when we started hunting together. And that December, you wanted to see Brokeback mountain ‘cause it had cowboys in it?" Dean winces slightly. That'd been a particularly awkward moment, as watching Jake Gyllenhaal and Heath Ledger get horny together with your grief-stricken estranged little brother can be.

"I try not to."

"Remember the scene in the tent?" Sam asks. As soon as the words leave his mouth, Dean has an epiphany.

"Wow."

"Yep."

"And you both -"

"Yes."

"And it feels -"

"Amazing, actually." Sitting back in his seat, Dean's at a loss for words. He knows he asked for this, literally, but it’s still more than he wanted to know about his baby brother.

"So all those year's past salad-eatings, was it trying to stay healthy, or -"

"Sorry, you only get one big embarrassing secret per family dinner," Sam says. "Ask next time."

"Yeah, about next time?" Dean begins. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy if you're happy. But If I ask a question you know I won't like the answer to, just slap me on the head first." Sam laughs sheepishly.

"Will do."


End file.
